The Klaincess Diaries
by Joanne Lupin
Summary: AU. Blaine Anderson is just a dorky teen trying to make it through high school... until one night when his life is changed forever. Glee\Princess Diaries (movie) crossover. Eventual Klaine
1. Chapter 1

**TRIGGER WARNING IN THIS CHAPTER FOR VIOLENT BULLYING.**

I thought the day would be normal. I went to school, sat in a row, ate white bread, looked at the floor a lot. You know. The whole "Supremes" thing. I thought I'd just get shoved around a little, maybe get a few rotten words thrown my way, and then go home. Guys like me- guys who do choir and theatre and spend their lunchtimes in a practice room writing songs and have a mop of curly Medusa hair- never get through high school without a little bullying.

_Thank God,_ I always thought. _Thank God I haven't come out._

Ha.

I was just taking out my scooter when a couple of football guys came up behind me, shouting, "Hey, Anderfag!"

"Oh, that's very creative. Did you come up with that yourself?" I replied quietly, not looking at them. It had been a long day. They all were. I just wanted to go home.

"Not so fast, Anderfag," another one growled. "We've had enough of your prancing around like a stupid little fairy."

"Yeah. We think it's time to teach you a lesson."

I just tried to get onto my scooter and get out of there, but my hands were shaking and my blood was turning cold. I pushed off, but one of them grabbed my backpack and pulled me around to face them. I stared at the ground.

"I don't think I said you were allowed to leave."

"Yeah, we're not done with you yet, Anderfag."

I couldn't help myself. "Do you start every sentence with 'yeah,' or just the idiotic ones?"

"Oh, you'll pay for that, Anderfag."

Then there was pain. Lots of pain. It seemed to stretch out for an infinite amount of time. It spiked again and again in my stomach, my back, my head. My brain was fogged. Finally, there was one big shock, and then I passed out.

-o0o-

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My mom was there, and though it seemed that my eyes were swollen nearly shut and it was hard to see, she was obviously holding back tears. It broke my heart to see her like that. Ever since dad died a few months ago, she's had to be so strong, and now I was causing her even more pain. I tried to smile at her, but my face felt stiff and swollen. "Hi, mom," I said blurrily.

"Blaine? You're awake? How do you feel? Are you in pain? –Nurse! He's awake! Nurse? –It'll be okay, honey. Do you know what happened?"

I thought hard. It seemed as though all my thoughts were hidden behind foggy veils. "I… I was coming home… and these guys came out and… and jumped me… And the next thing I knew… I was here…"

Mom let out a little squeak and covered her face with her hands. I tried to reach for her, but my arms were covered by casts. Oh. I looked down- or tried to. I was in a neck brace. One leg was held up by a strange rig. "Mom… Can you tell me what… what they did?"

Slowly, she explained it all to me. Two broken arms, four cracked ribs, one broken leg, a broken nose, two black eyes, some internal bleeding, and a minor concussion. The doctors said I'd be fine, but that it would take a long time for me to recover.

A nurse came in, checked me over, did some tests. I really just wanted to go back to sleep. I told Mom, and she nodded, patting my hand, but before I could doze off, a regal-looking woman glided into the room.

"Where is my grandson?" demanded the woman in an English accent.

My mother's face grew pale. "C-Clarisse. I didn't expect-"

"You didn't expect that I would come to the States when the Prince's life is in danger?" she asked icily.

Mom shot a glance in my direction before hissing, "We shouldn't be talking about this in front of Blaine. He's not in any sort of condition to-"

"Um, excuse me," I interrupted, "but what the hell is going on?"

I have to admit, I was a little pleased by the shocked look on British Lady's face at the use of the word "hell."

"Blaine, don't worry, we can talk in the morning," my mother soothed.

"No. I want to know what's going on _now_."

"You haven't told him?" piped in British Lady, aghast.

"There was never a good time! I just wanted him to get through school as a normal kid-"

"Mom, I was never a normal kid. I'm a dork. Just tell me-"

"We can talk about this later, Blaine. You need to-"

"No, it's time he knew. He needs to take better care of himself."

"THANK YOU!" I roared, surprising myself. I didn't mean to shout, but my frustration was boiling up inside me. I was so helpless, and I've never handled helplessness well.

Mom finally nodded and stepped aside to let British Lady get a little closer to me.

"Blaine, this is your grandmother. Your dad's mom. Clarisse Renaldi."

"Oh." So that cleared something up. I'd heard a little about her. She lived far away in a small European country called Genovia, which is why I never saw her. Clarisse took my hand.

"Blaine… You knew your father as Theodore Anderson. I knew him as King Theodore Anderson Renaldi… which makes you Theodore Blaine Anderson Renaldi, Prince of Genovia."

I shook my head, laughing hysterically. This couldn't be real. This was a part of the concussion. I was hallucinating. Instantly, Mom was at my side.

"Blaine, honey, are you okay?"

"You've gotta be kidding me, right? Because I can't be-"

"It's true, Blaine," Clarisse said. I turned to Mom, pleading. She closed her eyes and nodded.

"But how could I be a- a _prince_? I'm just an average, dorky, unpopular, g- glee club kid!" _Nice save, Anderson._

"We can teach you how to be a prince, Blaine," said Clarisse. "And we must do it soon. We thought that we could wait until you'd finished your last year of high school before you moved to Genovia, but your safety is obviously in jeopardy, I'm afraid…"

The impact of her words took a moment to sink in. "You… You want me to move to Genovia? And _rule_?"

"Of course. You _are_ the Prince, after all."

I wanted to get up and run away, but I was trapped. "Okay," I growled. "You were right. I can't handle this right now. Just… go. Let me sleep, please. And tell the nurse my leg is starting to hurt."

Mom nodded quietly, tears in her eyes. Clarisse led her out. The nurse came in moments later and upped my meds. Soon, I was fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a long, long, _long _recovery, not helped by the fact that Clarisse _insisted _that I be flown to the best hospital in Genovia. I never really saw the faces of the boys that attacked me- they could have been anyone on the football team- so we couldn't press charges. That infuriated my grandmother. But word quickly got out that two boys from my school had attacked the Crown Prince of Genovia, and I was soon, according to interviews with the entire football team, the most popular boy in school. Everyone claimed to be my best friend. Some girls even claimed to have dated me.

All I have to say to that is, "Ew."

Except I never actually said "ew" to the cameras that managed to find me.

Once I was let out of the hospital, I started etiquette lessons. Clarisse taught me to walk tall with a cane, how to eat properly, how to dance. It all came pretty naturally to me, actually. One of the perks of being gay.

I got a makeover one day. The gel actually suited my hair pretty well, I thought, but I wouldn't let the guy _touch _my eyebrows.

It was all going pretty well until Clarisse broke the news to me one night at dinner.

"Now, Blaine," she said, as prim as ever, "once you've been crowned, you must, of course, find a bride."

I choked on my water, twinging my neck, which still felt a little odd. It was wrenched a little in the attack. I felt Mom's hand patting my back. Once I'd finished my coughing fit, I sputtered, "_W-what?_"

"Well, you must know that you need to produce an heir."

"I… I…" I shook my head. "I can't."

"Why ever not?"

I looked apologetically at Mom, hoping she'd understand. I swallowed hard and stared back down at my plate.

"Because I'm gay."

I could hear Mom laughing gently and feel her taking my hand. "Oh, honey, I kind of figured."

I smiled up at her. "Really?"

"Blaine, dear, you're the only man I know that spells theatre 'R-E.'"

We both giggled. I was relieved. Mom was okay with it.

As if on cue, we both looked at Clarisse. She had a slight frown on her face.

"Clarisse?" Mom said defensively.

"Oh, no, I'm fine with Blaine however he is, of course. But it will be hard handling the media sensation that will arise. You'll be the first gay King of Genovia, of course, and there will be an argument about your fitness to be King if you can't produce a biological heir, but I assure you I'll do everything in my power to-"

I relaxed and sat back in my chair. Clarisse was on my side. I felt safer than I had in years- maybe in my entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

**So before I got started with this chapter, I wanted to explain the timeline of this story a little bit. It's AU, obviously. Basically, a lot of canon stuff is being moved around to fit in with my story. Kurt and Blaine are both 18. (Yes, Kurt WILL show up, I promise!) The attack on Blaine in the first chapter was like the Sadie Hawkins dance thing in this universe. Also, as per usual, Blaine is quite Darren-ey, which is the way I like him best. Kurt's going through all of that Karofsky stuff right about now. Yeah, it's a little weird, but this is what needs to happen for my story and canon to fit together the best for maximum feelz. Enjoy! (Or, you know, enpain…)**

The day I came out to my family was scary, but the day I came out to the world… well, that was terrifying. I had a plan, though.

I wanted to make a statement. I had to feel like I was given this power for a reason. Maybe this was it. Maybe I was supposed to be an advocate for kids like me- kids who get bullied to the point of death and are told that they "asked for it" by being themselves to a fault. Finally, one of these kids had a voice. I wasn't going to waste it.

-o0o-

I squeezed Mom's hand, took one look back at Clarisse's steady, reassuring gaze, and stepped up to the podium on the balcony. Oh, god. There were so many people. I closed my eyes, took a breath, cleared my throat.

"Ladies and gentleman of Genovia," I began, my voice wavering, "I, Prince Theodore Blaine Anderson Renaldi, come before you today with news that may shock you, but news that should not, if you are a decent human being, affect your view of me as a person- or as a ruler." I tried to look directly at as many of the cameras as possible without crossing my eyes.

"I'm gay."

There was a massive flurry of flashes and muttering. I plowed on.

"Most of you will remember the brutal attack that happened to me at my old high school in the United States. That attacked happened before I came out. It happened because I acted in a way society says is wrong. I can only imagine what horrifying maltreatment happens to those who are openly gay- which is something I couldn't imagine being at a high school in America. So I now want to address those teenagers for a moment:

"You are so much braver than I could ever imagine myself being. I want to tell you right now that you are _loved_. It _does _get better. And… you're not alone."

Suddenly, I had an idea. I whispered for a guard and gave him instructions. Then I turned back to the crowd.

"One of the reasons I was made fun of in school was the fact that I spent my lunchtimes in a practice room. I did that to escape everything that my classmates threw my way. I want to share something with all of you, now, if you don't mind…" The guard came back with my old, battered guitar. I strummed it to make sure it was in tune, then began, staring at my fingers.

"_I've been alone_

_Surrounded by darkness_

_And I've seen how heartless the world can be…"_

I wasn't aware of the stunned silence that had washed over the crowd. I sang my heart out, trying to beam my words to those who needed them most.

When I was done, I whispered a meek _thank you _and turned to leave. I was almost to the door when the applause began- huge and roaring. Clarisse spun me around to face the crowd. I couldn't believe the reaction I was getting.

I just hoped it was enough to change the world.

-o0o-

Over the next few days, I got countless letters and emails thanking me for my speech. There was most likely some hate mail, but I suspect it had been filtered out by security before it got to me. If Clarisse wanted it that way, there would be little I could do to stop her.

Some of the letters were simple and slightly impersonal, but some told stories so touching they forced me to tears more often than I'm willing to admit. There was one, though, that changed my life.

The email came from a senior at a high school in Ohio:

"_Dear Prince Blaine,_

"_My name is Mercedes Jones. Over the past few weeks, my friend, Kurt Hummel, has been acting strangely. He's gay, as well, and he's had his share of bullying, but I think it's been getting worse. We- that is, the members of our school's glee club- thought that your speech might cheer him up. We videotaped his reaction, but we never expected this to happen. We're all really worried about Kurt. I don't know if there's anything you could do, but at this point, I'd do anything to help my friend. _

"_Sincerely, Mercedes Jones."_

I opened the attachment Mercedes had sent. There was some jumbling as the camera was adjusted, then a black girl's face materialized out of the chaos. Then- muttering from a crowd of teenagers. There was the black girl, an Asian girl with blue streaks in her hair and a tall Asian boy next to her, a boy with glasses sitting in a wheelchair, a brunette girl with ponies on her sweater (ew), a freakishly tall boy, a bleached-blond guy, a trio of cheerleaders, a hawk-nosed girl, and a boy with long dreadlocks. Someone whispered, "_He's coming!"_ and they all glanced towards the door.

The boy that walked in was easily the most beautiful human being I'd ever laid my eyes on- and I couldn't even see him that well. _"Will this take long?"_ he asked wearily. _"I have a lot of homework to do and I really need to get home." _

His _voice, _though! Oh my god, his voice! It filled my heart and broke it all at the same time. It was melodic and sweet and beautiful, but it was also terrifyingly heavy, like he carried a burden with every single bit of him so that it seeped into every aspect of his being. Something inside me pushed me forward, but to what, I wasn't sure. All I knew that nothing would be right until I had personally taken away that heavy tone from his voice.

"_It'll only take a minute, Kurt, please sit down." _

That was the brunette. She had an irritating, nasal voice, but it was tinged with a worry towards which I was sympathetic.

Kurt Hummel sighed and sat, unknowingly, in front of the camera, and a hand pressed 'play.' I vaguely heard my voice coming from the computer's speakers. It was strange. Kurt Hummel watched the video with increasing curiosity. When I said I was gay, a little _I-knew-it _smile flashed on his face. I giggled. But then, when video-me was giving words of encouragement, his face got more serious. His eyes- oh, _wow_, what even is that color?- started to well up, and when I got to the chorus of my song, he was full-fledged _crying._ I willed for him not to cry. It physically pained me to see someone that perfect so sad. Kurt Hummel then stood up and dashed out of the room. His friend stared worriedly after him before starting to mutter to themselves.

The video ended there.

I drafted my response quickly:

"_Dear Miss Jones,_

"_The video you sent me disturbed me greatly. I would very much like to talk to Kurt Hummel. Could you give me his email address so that I can write to him? Please and thank you!_

"_Sincerely, Blaine"_


	4. Chapter 4

It must have taken me hours to write that first email to Kurt Hummel. My hands shook and the words never seemed to flow right on the paper. Finally, I had a draft I was satisfied with.

"_Dear Mr. Kurt Hummel,_

_This is Theodore Blaine Anderson Renaldi, Prince of Genovia. Please call me Blaine, though. Your friend Mercedes sent me a video of your reaction to my speech the other day. Please don't be mad at her for taping it. She had your best interests at heart and she couldn't have known what your reaction would be. I wish I had at least one friend who was that concerned about me. _

"_I want you to know that I would be glad to hear your story if you need someone to open up to. If you can't find someone to talk to, I'm here. And no matter what, please email me back. I want to know that you're okay._

"_Sincerely, Blaine"_

I got a reply the next day.

"_Your Majesty,_

"_I understand that you're the Prince and all that, but that still gives you no right to snoop into my personal life. I have no idea why you would want to know anything about me. Are you playing a trick or something? If your concern is legitimate, I appreciate it, but it seems entirely unfounded. I'd encourage you to please forget it._

"_Sincerely, Kurt Hummel"_

I chastised myself for quite a while after that. Of course, what was I thinking? I was a complete stranger to him! Still, something inside me made me try again.

"_Dear Kurt Hummel,_

"_I'm really, really sorry. I guess I didn't think this all through very well. All I knew was that you were crying, and someone as absolutely stunning as you should never cry. So, please, tell me how to make it stop._

"_Sincerely, Blaine_

"_P.S. I asked you to call me 'Blaine,' not 'Your Majesty.'"_

It was a couple days before the reply came back. I was getting worried.

"_Dear _Blaine,

"_Okay."_

At the bottom of the email was a Skype address. I immediately contacted him. To my surprise, he was online. It must have been midnight in the States. I couldn't help but let a smile creep onto my face, but the hard tone of his voice soon wipes it away.

"I swear on my mother's grave," he started roughly, "if you betray my trust, I will make life as difficult for you as I possibly can."

I nodded, not wanting to make a peep, but full to bursting inside because _I had Kurt Hummel's trust._

He told me everything. He started with all the bullying in high school. He told me how it had gotten worse this year, how one boy named Karofsky decided out of the blue to make his life a living hell. He told me about the kiss and the death threat. And then he told me more. He told me about his dad's heart attack and the crush he used to have on his now step-brother and his mother's death. And by the end, he looked drained, like he was carrying all of this for so long and now that he wasn't he could just about float away and disappear, and I felt flooded with all of this emotion that Kurt Hummel had given me to carry- that I _wanted _to carry.

Finally, I said something.

"What can I do? Just tell me, and I'll do it."

All he said was, "Get me out of here."

I smiled. "That can easily be arranged…"

-o0o-

I thought that was the end of the conversation, but then Kurt mumbled one more thing.

"Blaine? Could you… Could you play me a song?"

"Of course."

I pulled my guitar out and began to play.

"_Pretty, pretty please,_

_Don't you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're less than, less than perfect._

_Pretty, pretty please,_

_If you ever, ever feel_

_Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me."_


	5. Chapter 5

"_Please, _Grandma!" I begged. "You _know _it'd be helpful!"

Clarisse pursed her lips, thinking. "Well, it _would _be a good idea to have a mechanic around, what with the many royal cars…"

I held my breath.

Finally- "Yes, Blaine, I'm afraid I must agree with you. We can hire Burt Hummel as the royal mechanic, and they shall move here at once."

"Yes!" I shouted, jumping on Clarisse to give her a hug. She stiffened for a moment, and then hugged back.

My plan was going perfectly…

-o0o-

Kurt Hummel had never been on a plane before, so I insisted on going with the guard Clarisse sent to pick them up. When I arrived at their house, I frowned. Even before I'd moved to Genovia, I'd never exactly lived in poverty. Kurt's house, though… it was what Mom would call a "fixer-upper." The sidewalk was cracked, the stairs creaked, and the paint- a once-cheery light blue- was chipping. I knocked, and Burt Hummel answered. He shook my hand heartily and thanked me again for offering him a job.

"What with my medical bills and all, it's been harder 'n harder to make ends meet," he confessed, looking guilty. Kurt Hummel appeared from a staircase and set a hand on his shoulder.

"None of this is your fault, dad. Remember that. You can't be blamed for having a heart attack."

"If I'd just-"

Kurt Hummel swatted his father gently. "None of that!" Then he turned to look at me, smiling. When the both of us finally met eyes in person… it was magic. It took me a while to get my bearings. We both just kind of stared. Burt broke the silence with an uncomfortable cough.

"Uh, we better get going. With all the stuff _this one _has-" he elbowed Kurt lightly "-it'll take a while to get loaded up."

Kurt and I looked away, but I noticed that he was blushing slightly. The sight sent a little flutter of pride through me.

"Let's get on it, then, shall we, Mr. Hummel?"

-o0o-

Kurt latched tightly onto my hand as the plane started to taxi. His eyes were huge as saucers.

"OhgodBlainewhat'shappeningarewedeadarewedyin ghelpme."

I giggled. "It's okay, Kurt. Close your eyes. That'll help."

Immediately, he slammed his eyes shut. I squeezed his hand back. The plane gained momentum, and I could see Kurt's face get paler and paler. "It's okay, Kurt," I soothed. "This is supposed to happen. We're almost in the air… And… We're flying!"

"We are?" Kurt gasped, opening his eyes and leaning over me to peer out of the window. All I could do was stare at the hand he'd placed on my knee to keep his balance. He noticed this after a moment. Then he sat back down, blushing. "Sorry," he murmured.

I stared down at where he'd put his hand. "No, it's fine." I could feel myself going red.

It was going to be a long flight, and soon Kurt had fallen asleep. His head drooped to rest on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and followed him into a doze.

-o0o-

We were both awoken by the jolting of the plane. Charles, the pilot, spoke over the intercom. "Hey, sorry, guys. There seems to be a bit of a storm headed our way, which will cause a little turbulence. Keep your seatbelts fastened and you should be fine.

I turned to look at Kurt. All the color had drained from his face. "Blaine…" he croaked. I grabbed his hand.

"It's fine. Kurt, what never fails to calm you down?"

"Music," he replied quickly. I smiled.

"Then let's sing together."

I started a song, and Kurt's face lit up. He giggled slightly. Then he joined in.

"_It's time to try defying gravity_

_I think I'll try defying gravity_

_And you can't pull me down!"_

By the time the song was over, we were out of the storm.


End file.
